You’re not exactly a beauty, are you?
“Vicki, where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for an hour! If that article isn’t on my desk by Monday, you’re fired!”
“Oh, get lost!” Vicki yelled into the void.
She slammed on the brakes, causing her car to awkwardly screech along the wet road, skidding slightly before coming to a halt. Feeling intensely lonely, Vicki stayed in the car, unsure of how to change her life from this point on.
Why is it that her friends have it so differently? Her schoolmates either married well-to-do men or found their own success. Vicki was already twenty-four, soon to be twenty-five, and she seemed stuck in place, as if she was trapped in this damned life. No matter what she did, fate always seemed to throw a spanner in the works, as if she was destined never to enjoy even a little happiness in life.
Vicki had found a good job, loved working at the magazine, but since that stuck-up editor had taken over, her hopes had begun to fade. She had hustled with her articles, hoping fortune would finally smile on her, but it wasn’t to be.
Vicki dreamed of being a journalist, working at a magazine, making a difference, chasing stories. That was her dream, but it had turned into a long stalemate.
She’d barely begun her studies before she was racing to gain practical experience.
And now here she was, a skilled journalist, sitting in the dirty snow beside her car.
Her phone continued to ring. With a squelching sound, Vicki stood up and brushed off her jeans unsuccessfully. She dropped back into her seat and finally grabbed the phone that was buzzing insistently.
“Scott, you could at least think a bit! I yelled at you for an article that’s apparently already done. Why do you put me through this?” came the smooth, low voice of the editor, Scott.
From the moment Scott Clinton took the chief editor’s position, chaos ensued among the journalists. They all tried to win his favor, but seemingly to no avail.
“And do you let me get a word in? You yell like…” Vicki refrained from calling him a loudmouth to avoid hastening her impending dismissal.
“Tomorrow as usual, be in the office by ten. There are questions about the coverage for ‘Star-Build’. Don’t disappear again. I don’t want to lose a journalist like you, especially now. You know the staffing situation is at a standstill.”
And somehow, his tone had softened. He wasn’t screaming. All he had to do was open his eyes and glance at his desk where the article already lay. Enough! Vicki recalled her mother’s words during moments like this. Her mother had always claimed she wouldn’t amount to anything. How can one not love themselves enough to stay in a job with no career prospects?
“You’re no beauty, Vicki. Only beautiful women with legs that go on forever, tiny waists, and lips like cartoon fish have the chance to make something of themselves at someone else’s expense. But you’ll work hard for everything yourself, just you watch,” her mother’s words echoed in Vicki’s mind.
Maybe her mother had a point. What was Vicki doing with her looks, trying to compete? Look at the other magazine editors, they’re all beauties… And you can’t get through to them – all wide-eyed and clacking away at the keyboard.
Vicki sniffled in frustration, wiping her runny nose with her hand. A tiny rented apartment, debts, constant issues. And a husband who was good for nothing. How did Vicki miss his immaturity and lack of ambition?
Leaving scared her, but staying was unbearable. Vicki loved her magazine, didn’t want to go anywhere. But should she…
She had to head home; she couldn’t sit there in the wet, dirty snow any longer…
Returning to her apartment, Vicki peeled off her dirty clothes, tossed them in the wash, and stood under the hot stream of the shower. The water bit into her skin with invisible teeth, leaving red marks. Only in such heat could she wake from the endless monotony of life.
“I’m home!” came a voice from the hallway.
By then, Vicki felt a little better. She stepped into the corridor and kissed her husband on the cheek. Where did that wild passion that brought them together go?
“Why are you all red? Been crying again for no reason?” asked Mark, pulling off his boots.
Vicki opened her mouth but didn’t respond. People had a knack for devaluing her problems. Only they could have real issues, not her…
“The documents arrived, test results,” Vicki said calmly.
“What documents?” Mark asked, completely forgetting they’d been to get checked.
And now, a child could work to her advantage, if one could say that. Vicki could take maternity leave and figure out her career during those years. She really needed time to breathe, focus on family, her own needs.
Maybe it was the right time now?
Vicki even thought she was angry because she subconsciously longed to be a mother, yet clung to a career that had frustratingly stalled.
Mark shrugged off his work clothes, pulled on track pants, sat in the chair, and covered his face with his hands. He dragged them down, eerily stretching his skin. Leaning back, he cursed and then said:
“Why do you want kids now?”
“What do you mean?” Vicki asked, stunned. “I’m almost twenty-five, you’re thirty-two. It’s not trendy anymore to be an older mother. We agreed, got tested together. We’re all set, we can be parents!”
“Vicki, I think now’s not the right time.”
Once again, Mark backpedaled. And looking at him, Vicki realized that all this time he’d been stringing her along. He didn’t want kids, he didn’t want anything, really. It was clear he just wanted a young wife and none of the responsibilities.
In that moment, Vicki felt the sting of her unjust and problem-laden life. She was so bitter that by this age, her career could have been stable, or she could have had a child, some dreams of a real warm, full family…
And it hurt that the editor toyed with her, her husband had settled comfortably on her shoulders, and now dictated terms…
And suddenly Vicki realized there seemed to be no place for her in her own life.
Without saying a word, she began to pack her things. Her husband stared at her, eyes wide, opening and closing his mouth like a fish pulled ashore.
“Do whatever you want!” Vicki said finally, and then, glancing at her husband one last time, felt more certain than ever that she was doing the right thing.
Vicki filed for divorce and wouldn’t be swayed by her husband’s empty promises. She quit the magazine, seeing no prospects, only daydreaming about the career she wanted. Her whole life turned upside down. It was terrifying and exciting to see where it might lead.
But Vicki didn’t plan on giving up. Two months after resigning, another magazine offered her a department head position. She accepted immediately, jumping into her duties with renewed energy. After the divorce, even as her ex teetered on poverty, he still didn’t get a job or pay rent, instead moving back to his mother’s to live off her.
Vicki knew she’d made the right choice, she was glad for her self-preservation, and that she started anew. Sometimes, you’ve got to cut a plant to the roots for a beautiful flower to bloom.
Three years had passed since Vicki’s impulsive decision to change her life radically. Since then, things had run smoothly. The job was great; she’d moved up to deputy editor, with the editorship in sight, just as she’d dreamed. Her work was valued, and even competitors often tried to lure her away.
Vicki had also found a worthy man unafraid of responsibility, ready for a more serious future. All it took was the courage to change everything she was used to.
Looking back on her past, Vicki knew that despite the fear at the time, she didn’t regret her actions one bit.
